by Scott Wale
The cellar door was quickly cleared by the work of the three. Fenrit and Cerevus worked together pulling open the doors to a cloud of dust. They turned their heads in an effort to protect their eyes. Jandra let out a screech when the dust had settled and it was safe to enter the cellar.
Fenrit headed down the stairs and as light faded away his thoughts turned back to the moment he had been buried underneath the fallen watch tower.
“What can we do about light?” Fenrit asked up to Cerevus.
Cerevus took a brisk inventory of his surroundings. He removed some straw that had been part of the granary’s roof and laced it around a splintered board. He pulled a dagger from his belt and began to strike it on one of the nearby rocks that had been removed from atop the granary cellar. After numerous strikes an ember caught the dry straw and a torch had been created.
“I thought it might not be a good idea to just toss this down”, Cerevus said carrying the torch down into the cellar.
Light began to reveal every crack and crevice of the cellar. Even though the contained space was dank, it was an ideal spot for storing food or, considering the recent assault, getting out of harm’s way. The far corner of the cellar contained what appeared to be a pile of dark green cloth.
“Alejade!” Fenrit screamed running over to the svelte body that had curled up beneath a hooded cloak that was a tessellation of dark blue, green and brown diamonds.
Fenrit pulled the cloak away from the mass of charcoal gray fur. Alejade peered out from her curled up position and allowed her green eyes to adjust to the light that had flooded into the cellar. The Loupiqs exploding entrance into the cellar had startled Alejade. She remained speechless, and remained relatively motionless other than her twitching tail. Fenrit stared into her eyes waiting for her to speak and confirm that she was still mentally intact.
“Are you ok?” Fenrit finally asked.
“I am now, thanks to you, brother!” she replied.
II.
“Today we mourn, for tomorrow and hereafter we will show strength.”
Alejade chanted the death intonation of her people. The ritual had always been a single sentence reminder spoken in front of a funeral pyre. No one could ever recall it being anything more, yet no one had ever protested that it was too inadequate.
No other survivors had been found and the final casualty count was unknown. The rites of death would still take place whether the toll was one or thousands. The pyre itself contained no bodies and its sole purpose was to simply facilitate the rites of death. The survivors surrounding the pyre were satisfied with the brief ceremony and the words would resonate with them over the next few days as they always did.
The group had moved some distance from the former site of Dimday, but was still a good hike away from the safety camp. They had settled near a small grove of trees, so they could gather firewood and quickly unwind into some much needed rest. The trees would also offer protection from the wind and whatever other dangers lurked in the upcoming dark.
Fenrit’s mind instantaneously became entranced by the flickering flames of the fire. Many lives had been lost, Fenrit thought to himself, but at least he and Alejade had come away unharmed. His mind began to exchange stresses as it relieved itself from the physical and mental strains of the battle he had just survived and began to focus on new thoughts. What was to come next? The group would follow through with its plan to return to the safety camp bearing the dire news, but what about after that? Fenrit felt a burden on his shoulders that he had never felt during his lifetime. Matters worth mulling over in the mind were no longer about his personal struggles, but had been elevated to what he could do to keep his people from only existing in history texts. Nothing will be solved in thought tonight he kept telling himself, but even focusing on this wouldn’t relax his mind.
Talsend, Cerevus and Lachtyn also stared into the flames with grim looks on their faces. They too were dealing with the task of trying to wrap their mind around the fate of their people. Jandra had perched herself high in a tree overlooking the group. She would keep an ever watchful eye throughout the night alarming the group if any unwelcome guests were to approach.
“I thought only premaliers had remained in Dimday?” Cerevus finally spoke breaking the silence.
“I was positioned in the granary and communicating with Jandra about the movements of the cymutts”, Alejade responded. “My presence had been under the consent of the group of elders. I retreated to the granary’s cellar as planned when the cymutts had broken through the first wall. I listened as the cymutt’s rampage caused the rocks to fall on the cellar door trapping me down inside with the darkness. The air felt thin in the closed up cellar and it probably didn’t help that I was unable to control my heavy breathing. I had already laid down and almost fallen asleep when you all arrived.”
“You were fortunate to come out of the battle unharmed”, Cerevus responded. “I don’t understand why the elders would even put you in that kind of danger.”
Alejade sensed the protective nature of Cerevus’ line of reasoning and let the conversation drop. Few females aspired to join the ranks of the premaliers and fewer actually achieved the feat. For most of the males this left a desire to physically and emotionally protect the females that did serve. This was completely unnecessary as a premalier’s fortitude was their greatest strength.
“It’ll be a half day’s journey by foot to the safety camp”, Fenrit pointed out after deciding that speaking was the best remedy for a mind heavy with thought.
“Fortunately, we’re all in a well enough condition to make the trek.”
“Come daylight I can send Jandra ahead to send message”, Alejade offered. “It will give the elders time to decide on the best way to start over.”
“There’s nothing left to start over with”, Lachtyn griped.
“The elders will have a solution that will serve the best interests of our people”, Talsend countered.
The others wanted to also argue a case for hope, but the recent battle had drained any optimism out of them.
“Unless the cymutt army keels over in the near future it will take a miracle from the Maker to save our hides”, Lachtyn continued looking for an argument.
“The Maker hasn’t interfered with the conflicts between its creations for ages”, Alejade responded. “It simply loves all of its creations equally and asks them to do the same.”
Alejade aimed to make the conversation a religious based one where she could use her extensive studies to make knowledgeable arguments. She had pored over religious texts to not only educate herself, but also teach others when the opportunity arose.
“It’s just an expression”, Lachtyn quickly recanted.
Alejade stared graciously at Lachtyn. If he had more frustrations to vent, she would be happy to be the soothing voice of reason. Lachtyn’s attention turned to the darkness as he resumed working out things internally as all the other survivors had done.
Alejade had spent the better part of her life studying all the religious texts made available to her with the goal to learn all that is known about the world, the Maker and the Maker’s expectations of its creations. The most important thing stressed by all the religious texts was the bond between the Maker’s creations. The widely known concept was that the essence of life only existed in two forms: good and evil. When a physical being ceased to exist, the life essence would manifest itself in a new structure sometimes accumulating or dividing during the transition. This is why the bonds between creations were so important. Whether you were an advocate of good or evil, which often was a matter of perspective, the accumulation of life essence would only serve to benefit your cause.
Understanding these basic concepts was especially necessary for someone like Alejade who possessed the skill of creature empathy. She shared a bond with Jandra that no one could understand. Most individuals viewed Alejade as some sort of beast master that commanded a pet, but the bond had really formed through communicating trust and a mutual respe
ct for life. Alejade would never treat Jandra, or any bird that she could communicate with, as a subservient being. The reality of the situation was that Jandra was more intimate with Alejade than Alejade’s own brother Fenrit.
The group sat in silence for a long time. Alejade reasoned that there were times when healing needed to occur internally and times when conversation was necessary to mend the pain. She knew the premaliers were struggling more than her and decided that her best course of action was to let them speak first.
“Let’s play a game”, said Cerevus daring to break the silence.
“What do you have in mind?” replied Talsend.
“These are starlight trees, right?” asked Cerevus.
“Most of them”, answered Alejade.
Cerevus reached into his quiver and pulled out two arrows. He formed a cross and then slowly placed it in the fire careful to keep the shape intact while trying not to burn himself. He returned to his spot in front of the fire and waited for a moment. The arrows eventually caught fire and began to emit a flame with a light green hue, which was clearly visible in contrast to the red and yellow flames coming from the base of the fire.
Alejade caught on to Cerevus’ lead and searched the ground for a starlight seed. The seeds were bulky containing a thick outer shell that offered protection from even the most extreme environments. The seeds were a favorite delicacy of any birds that had a beak large enough and strong enough to crack the shell and devour the tasty innards. The seed itself was not to be underestimated and would be rewarded with a fertile start after spending a great deal of time traveling Faunar in a bird’s intestines. For this reason starlight trees could be found in seemingly random bunches all throughout the Jade Plains. Alejade grasped a seed that was roughly half the size of her fist and tossed it into the fire. Just as the arrows had emitted their light green hue, the seed began burning a light blue flame. The game was simple. X marks the spot and closest to the mark wins.
Talsend chuckled at the light show displayed before the group and picked up his own starlight seed. His toss was embarrassingly off mark and nearly fell outside the boundary of the fire.
“Not exactly a showcase of premalier precision”, Cerevus smirked.
A seed flew into the playing field and landed a small distance from the center mark beating out Alejade’s mark and becoming the new current leader. Lachtyn winked at Cerevus as if to wish him good luck in beating a throw that in his mind was nearly perfect.
Fenrit practiced his throwing motion a few times before releasing his throw that failed to take the lead away from Lachtyn. That left all eyes on Cerevus to play the role of spoiler.
“Pressure has never gotten to me before”, Cerevus remarked with confidence. “Experience trumps everything.”
Cerevus released his throw, which everyone temporarily lost in the dark as it floated through the cool night air towards the fire. Everyone’s attention immediately went to the fire anticipating the landing, which would reveal the final outcome. Three separate seeds hit the fire, all of them failing to be closer than Lachtyn’s mark.
“Even experienced cheaters never win”, Lachtyn quipped.
“I had no idea a fire could be so colorful”, Talsend said still amazed by the science that made the game possible.
“The wood treatment we apply to the arrows to help them hold their charge produces the green flame and I’m not sure why the seed burns blue”, Cerevus explained. “You should really see what happens when you throw your tenik bow into the fire.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a story there with you, Cerevus?” Fenrit asked.
“Never thought you’d ask”, Cerevus smiled.
“Mapu and I were out scouting around the foothills of the Split Range roughly where the Trados River leaves the mountains”, Cerevus began his story. “We had started a fire right at the base of a large tree. I had never scouted much with Mapu, so that night looked to be headed in the direction of an endless exchange of stories. Mapu wasn’t that old, but she had been through more adventures than most other premaliers combined. The funny part was that she never sought them out; it was always a result of a change of plans. I never thought that night was going to turn into a story she would later on share with others.”
“We were both growing tired that night and I suggested we put out the fire and get some rest. Mapu agreed and got up ready to stomp out the puny flames that remained. The instant before her foot landed on the first flame a grunt erupted from the darkness and Mapu froze in place. We both squinted in the direction of the grunt and what was first a silhouette turned into the figure of a kanoak. Its mouth hung wide open and it gazed at us as if we’d be the meal that would save it from starvation. Its barbed tail waved back and forth like it was stretching before putting every muscle behind a powerful thrust. Mapu had no intention of letting the kanoak make the first move. She sprung for her tenik bow, slung it around her shoulder and then headed for the tree we had built our campfire under. She jumped into the air and dug her claws into the trunk. It was quite a climb up to the first set of branches that would hold her weight. I’ve never given a lot of thought to the strengths and weaknesses of the Chafel compared to the Loupiq, but I will tell you that climbing definitely goes in favor of the Chafel”, Cerevus paused giving Alejade and Talsend a long look.
“I knew I wasn’t going to get up the tree that fast, so I decided my best move was to put the tree between me and the kanoak. I did just that, but the kanoak wasn’t happy about its next meal trying to get away. It began to growl and trotted around the tree. I knew I couldn’t flee out into the open plains and I also knew I couldn’t keep running around the tree hoping the kanoak would tire before I did. When I looked up the tree, Mapu had come most of the way down with her claws still dug into the trunk. The Kanoak pulled back its tail and Mapu reached out her hand. I jumped just high enough to grab Mapu’s hand and I swear I felt the kanoak’s tail swoosh right beneath my feet as it smashed into the tree trunk. I buried the claws of my feet into the trunk for a little more support and slowly Mapu and I made our way up to the branch. We were amazed the kanoak didn’t get us on our slow climb up the tree until we looked down and realized its tail had hit the trunk so hard that it was lodged into the tree. The kanoak began to snarl as it realized it was caught, but the problem was we were stuck too. Climbing down the trunk meant the kanoak still had a good chance at nabbing us and if we jumped off any of the branches there was a good chance we’d break a leg or something worse. Mapu had her bow, but my bow and both of our quivers still laid on the ground around the campfire. It looked like a standstill that wasn’t going to end well for one of the parties involved. The kanoak was putting a lot of energy into trying to get its tail loose, but it didn’t seem to be tiring. Mapu and I on the other hand were already tired and were now further exhausted from having to climb the tree. I sat out on the branch, while Mapu sat up against the trunk. We were up in the tree for quite some time when Mapu began to nod off. I watched as she fought to keep her eyes open and eventually sleep won the battle. I considered her fortunate to be able to get some sleep in this situation. It wasn’t long before she began to sway back and forth. I had begun to nod off myself when I noticed this. The swaying covered more and more range. I moved closer fearing she would fall off the branch where if the fall didn’t get her, the kanoak would. I caught her just as she tipped over, startling her as she came out of her slumber. Not fully aware of her position, she flung her limbs out and knocked her tenik bow to the ground and right into the campfire that was now just a few minor flames. The kanoak had settled down as if it had surrendered to the fact that it was now stuck to the base of the tree. Like most beasts, it had no interest in being close to the fire even if there was a commotion in that general direction. We expected the fire to pick up a little with the added fuel of the bow, but what we didn’t expect was an explosion that followed a few moments after the bow had sat in the fire. As surprised as we were, the kanoak took it even worse. It darted towards the dark
ness abruptly being anchored by its tail that it had forgotten was stuck in the tree. Still in a panic the kanoak came back to its tail, chewed straight through it and then ran off in its new found freedom. We climbed down to grab the remainder of our gear, but decided it was best to stay the rest of the night up in the tree.”
“That is unbelievable”, said Talsend.
“We thought so too”, Cerevus replied. “Which is why when the morning came, Mapu dug the barbed end of the tail out of the trunk and eventually made a club out of the thing.”
“I remember her showing me that club once, but I had no idea such an interesting story was behind it”, Fenrit said.
“I never did figure out why the bow exploded, but I’ve definitely been sure to keep my bow away from the campfire since then”, Cerevus stated.
Talsend and Lachtyn looked over their shoulder to remind themselves where they had set their bows. Fenrit realized he would need to construct a new bow when time allowed.
“Thank you for the story, Cerevus, but I believe it is time for me to get some rest”, Alejade responded.
“Agreed”, Lachtyn chimed in.
“I’ll take first watch”, Cerevus offered. “Rest easy, friends.”
***
The unattended fire had dwindled down to embers. The fire no longer had purpose as the night was warm and the eyes of the Loupiq and Chafel adjusted well to the dark. There were many other nocturnal predators that hunted the Jade Plains in addition to the kanoak, but as long as a member of the group plus Jandra remained on watch, no predators would bring harm to a single member.
Fenrit sat on a nearby log having taken over on the second watch. He was appreciating the beauty of night on the Jade Plains, which was a beauty that was easily recognized to the unobservant. The starry filled night sky blanketed the plains with a constant soothing comfort that could ease the tension of even the most hardened premalier. Other than a few trees, there were few obstacles that would block the celestial view, which could fully immerse an individual if they were to lie on their back. Various insects added an ambient noise that would only lull an individual to sleep if that was all they focused on. Fenrit had been trained to pay attention to the insects as it was a cause for concern if their tranquilizing chirps came to a stop. It often meant that danger was near, and while Fenrit’s eyes suited him well enough in the dark, a predator’s eyes had that much more of an advantage.